Wednesday, April 25, 2012

I can't help but reminisce about the handful of sleeps I had by the ocean waves. How light my body felt, when every morning I woke up steadfastly holding on to the present. Foreign. Different. But still strangely at home with the untamed pulses of the water. Remembering the coloured sun that kissed and burned, I silently wish for my muted footprints to trail behind once more. And then, there were the sandy banks. The ones lined with granules of perpetually wandering minds. The ones laden with memories that are only ours to keep.